To Protect a Princess by Jess Michaels
Chapter 15
Jonah was barely back in his clothes as he raced into the main hall at the masquerade. He searched for Ilaria and found her instantly, halfway across the ballroom floor…and she was being held by some stranger. She was pulling away and Jonah began to run toward her, shouting, though he couldn’t be heard above the crowd.
She fell. He wasn’t sure if she’d been hit or just stumbled, and when the crowd parted in shock, he saw she was lying still on the floor. The man who had attacked her rose up, a knife in hand, and Jonah realized he wouldn’t reach her in time. He wouldn’t stop this man from killing her.
“No!” he screamed, but before the killing blow could be stuck, Marcus Rivers appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere, hitting the attacker with his considerable frame and sending the two of them falling away from Ilaria. The knife clattered away, bouncing back toward Jonah, and he picked it up in a daze, pocketing it and the piece of cloth that was wrapped around the handle.
With his heart pounding, Jonah dropped to his knees as he reached Ilaria, skidding the last few inches as he took her in his arms.
“Please,” he whispered, and looked up in time to see the man who had tried to kill her thrust Rivers away and run at full speed away into the crowd.
“Fucking follow him!” Rivers bellowed, and half a dozen men complied, running after the man though he had a head start. He pivoted back to Jonah and Ilaria. “I think we’d best move—the crowd is getting restless.”
Jonah looked around at the people who were beginning to gather around them, whispering and pointing. He nodded and swept Ilaria up. She made a soft sound and turned her face into his chest.
“Follow me,” Rivers said to Jonah, and then spoke to the crowd, “The young lady will be fine and the culprit will be apprehended by my men, I assure you. Please, go back to your pleasures.”
The music lifted from somewhere in the room, and Rivers guided Jonah through the throng, past the guard at the bottom of the stairs that led to his office. As he pushed into the big room that overlooked the club below, his wife, Annabelle, leapt to her feet from behind the desk.
“What in the world?” she began as she raced around the desk and followed Marcus and Jonah into the bedchamber attached to the office. Jonah set Ilaria down on the bed and smoothed her hair back from her head, careful not to disturb the mask she had put back on before she fled the room a short while before. A small bruise was forming on her temple.
“It’s Princess Ilaria,” Rivers said softly.
Jonah jerked his head up. “You knew?”
“I deduced her identity after the last time we spoke,” Rivers admitted.
Jonah blinked. “How?”
“Your relationship to the family, the fact that you were so desperate to keep her a secret, to protect her.” Rivers shrugged. “And the sketch made of her in the paper was quite good. The lips.”
Annabelle leaned closer. “Oh yes, I see it.”
“I think we must send for her brother,” Jonah said.
Rivers nodded, and he and Annabelle departed the room. When Jonah was alone with Ilaria, he kissed her forehead. “Wake up. Please, wake up. I love you.”
She groaned a little, her fist gripping on his lapel as she opened her eyes. “Jonah?” she murmured.
He nodded, relief flooding him as tears leapt to his eyes. “Yes.”
“That man,” she said, lifting from the pillows and then collapsing back. “Oh, that makes me dizzy.”
“You hit your head,” he said, and examined her eyes. Her pupils looked fine, which was a relief. He’d seen men felled by head injury, but hers didn’t seem to be as dangerous. “Did he strike you?”
“No,” she groaned. “He grabbed me. When I pulled away, I fell. Jonah, he was the same man who approached me a few nights ago. The one you frightened away.”
He wrinkled his brow. “You’re certain?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And he…he knew who I was. He said my name.”
Jonah gritted his teeth. That was certainly not good. And all the more reason to report this situation to the king as soon as possible. He grabbed for her hand and squeezed gently. “I’m going to step out. I must talk to Rivers. Just rest now. You’re safe.”
She released his hand with a shaky sigh and he got up and left her, as much as he didn’t want to do so. He wasn’t lying. She was safe in the room in this fortress. But he wasn’t sure if that would apply once she left here. Because if this man who had approached her tonight had known her identity, that could mean nothing good.
* * *
Ilaria had lain in the bed for a while, she didn’t know how long because the room would not cooperate and stop spinning. Too long. Now she struggled to sit up. Her head throbbed. It was getting better, but the bruise on her temple pounded beneath the strap of her mask. She reached up and touched it as a pretty woman with chestnut-brown hair and friendly eyes entered the room.
“Would you like to remove that?” she asked, stepping up to the bed.
Ilaria leaned away. “I-I shouldn’t.”
“There now,” the lady said as she sat down beside Ilaria on the edge of the mattress. “I know who you are and your identity is safe with me, Your Highness.”
Ilaria shut her eyes. “Does everyone know?”
“No. My husband did, and he told me after you were brought up here.” The lady carefully unfastened Ilaria’s mask and pulled it away, tilting her head to look at the bruise. “I’m Annabelle Rivers. This is my husband’s club.”
“I would normally say I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“These aren’t the best of circumstances, I know,” Annabelle said with a friendly smile. “But I hope I can assure you that your identity will remain private. Even if it weren’t in our own best interest to keep the anonymity this place requires, my husband and I are not of a cruel bent.”
“Thank you,” Ilaria said, and felt she could trust this woman’s words were true. There was just something about her. “Is Jonah…”
“He and my husband went to talk to his right-hand man. Paul will fetch the king.”
“No!” Ilaria said. “He can’t…”
“You were just attacked and thanks to that knock on your head, it would be better if you stay here a while longer,” Annabelle said. “Someone in your family must know about this.”
Ilaria rested back on the pillows with a groan. “Grantham will be so angry with me. And my mother—oh, I shudder to think of the look on her face.”
“You won’t be in…in danger, will you?” Annabelle asked gently. “From them?”
Ilaria’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no, nothing like that. They’ll just be disappointed in me.”
“Ah. Well, that can cut just as deeply.”
Ilaria worried her lip. “You see a great deal of women in danger?”
“From time to time,” Annabelle said. “The nature of our club makes it a safe place for courtesans and lightskirts to make a little coin. Marcus does not require a percentage and the guards protect them. Other women are here simply for pleasure without any other kind of transaction and are more open with themselves then they are allowed to be in the greater world. There is vulnerability to pleasure. Especially that of an anonymous nature between strangers.”
Ilaria bent her head. In her case, she had experienced the vulnerability, but with a man who was anything but a stranger. She sighed. “Your rules for the club must help keep things safe.”
Annabelle nodded. “They are meant to do so. But men are…men. And many are not to be trusted. From time to time, keeping this club a safe haven entails more than merely keeping watch on them. Like tonight.”
“My world is so far removed,” Ilaria breathed.
Annabelle looked over her shoulder. “It sounds like it won’t be now. Prepare yourself.”
Ilaria held her breath because she heard her brother’s voice echoing from the other room and the door slammed. “Where the hell is she?”
* * *
Jonah had not expected the entire royal family of Athawick to arrive at the secret back entrance to the Donville Masquerade, but that had been what happened. The moment Grantham exited the carriage, his anger was plain. As was his concern for Ilaria as the family followed Rivers up the back stair to his office.
Now Jonah stood before the door where Ilaria was resting, braced for the censure about to come when Grantham realized exactly what was going on here.
“Where the hell is she?”
“Your sister is in the other room, Your Majesty,” Rivers said, his voice calm but firm, as if he managed royalty every day. And he might. His club was a popular place.
“Rivers saved her life,” Jonah said softly.
For a moment, Grantham stared at Rivers, all his gratitude clear in his eyes. But then he spun back toward Jonah. “I thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. Instead you let her come to this place, this…this sex club.” He glanced at Rivers. “No offense, Mr. Rivers.”
“None taken,” Rivers said mildly.
“Grantham,” Queen Giabella said. “Why don’t we let these gentlemen explain? And I want to see my daughter.”
“I’m here.”
The entire room pivoted as the door to the back chamber opened and Ilaria stepped out, Annabelle Rivers at her side. Jonah flinched at how tired she looked, how worn down and still afraid. His foolish actions had put her in this position and he hated himself for it.
“Ilaria,” Grantham breathed, crossing to her and tugging her in for a gentle hug. Jonah watched her collapse against her brother a little, leaning on him for support.
When Grantham pulled away, Ilaria stared around the room. “Why in the world would all of you risk coming here?” she asked. “You could be seen and the stir that would create is—”
The queen silenced her by stepping up to embrace her. “As if I could hear that my daughter had been injured and not come to her,” she said, her voice shaking, tears sparkling in her dark eyes.
Prince Remington embraced her after her mother had released her and Ilaria’s companion, Sasha, did the same. They each said something to her that no one else in the room could hear, but Jonah didn’t have to guess what it was. Both of them had helped in her escape her earlier in the evening and their guilt was plain on both their faces.
Once the family had stepped away from her, Granthan’s face hardened. “You have some explaining to do.”
“I know,” Ilaria said softly. “But please don’t shout. None of this is anyone’s fault but my own.”
“Why don’t we all sit?” Annabelle Rivers said. “I have tea or something stronger. Please.” She motioned to the settee and the chairs scattered about the office.
There was a moment’s hesitation before Queen Giabella led Ilaria to the settee. Her lead was one the rest else followed, and soon the entire party was seated, save for Jonah and Rivers, who exchanged a brief, knowing glance with him before he handed him over a whisky.
He downed it in one gulp and said, “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Ilaria met his gaze. “From the beginning. None of this is Captain Crawford’s fault. I came here of my own volition, and he simply intercepted me and tried to help.”
She was lying. Trying to protect him despite the fact that Sasha and Prince Remington knew the truth of how this night had started.
“Yes,” Grantham said. “I asked him to do so. To watch you because I feared you might make a desperate choice in your anger toward me. Though not quite this desperate.”
Ilaria stared at Jonah. “Wh-what? You were…were you spying on me for my brother?”
He winced. That wasn’t the way he’d wanted her to learn that fact. But perhaps it was best that the truth was out in the open. “Yes,” he said softly.
She stared at him wide eyed for a moment, and then she lifted her chin and a calm went over her face. The same mask she wore for others but had begun to discard around him. How it hurt to see it back.
She cleared her throat. “This was my third time coming here,” she admitted.
“Ilaria,” he mother murmured, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.
Ilaria shrugged. “You may express your disappointment at length later, all of you. But perhaps I should first tell you what brought us to tonight.”
Grantham folded his arms. “I think that’s a good idea. Because it isn’t every day that a princess of Athawick is attacked. I want to know who did this, I want to know why and I want this person brought to justice. I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens. So tell me.”